An Angel's Dance
by Kels92
Summary: Showing your wings was a personal thing, private. It was a sign of trust, of intimacy.


Another requested fic from Tumblr, though the asker asks (duh) to remain anonymous. Calthazar! I tried to make it fluffy and romantic! Kinda friendship/budding romance thing because I've never actually written (or read for that matter) any Calthazar, so I just kinda winged it (haha-pun totally intended).

WARNINGS: None, I suppose. Which is really a first for me in a LONG time.

DISCLAIMER: I own nothing and no-one!

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An Angel's Dance

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Castiel liked parks.

He liked them more at night, when there were no people who looked at him oddly and ushered their children in the other direction, the crickets and frogs sang with renowned gusto, and the stars were exposed to his wandering gaze.

Castiel looked away. The stars were judgmental tonight.

"The Winchester's give you more trouble, I take it?" came the familiar British-accent of Balthazar's vessel. Castiel turned to his friend, one pair of bright blue eyes meeting another. One pair was swimming with grief, the other, comfort.

A dog howled forlornly some blocks over.

"I lied to them," Castiel said. "Again."

Balthazar shrugged. "You're doing what's necessary to defeat Raphael. What's it any of their business how you do it?"

Castiel eyes fluttered to the side and he rolled his shoulders. "I just…" he took a few wandering steps, not intending to go anyway but suddenly unable to stay still, a nervous habit he knew to be called "pacing", something he'd picked up from his time with the Winchesters. "I wish there was some other way."

"Yes, well, don't we all?" Balthazar mumbled. Castiel rolled his shoulders again, lips pressed thin. Balthazar frowned. "Are you alright, Cas?" The blond angel furrowed his brow when the other rolled his shoulders a third time and huffed.

"It's…it's my wings," Castiel finally said, face scrunched uncomfortably.

Balthazar appeared beside him, face turned down in worry. "Are you injured?" he asked, hands hovering in the air, not sure if it was okay to touch or to hold or to heal. Castiel turned to his friend, features relaxing at the other's concern and a small smile turning up at the corners of his mouth.

"I'm not injured, Balthazar, merely…ruffled."

Balthazar was silent for a moment, stepping back a few steps, hands lowering only a fraction, then "When was the last time someone groomed them?"

Castiel rolled his shoulders again, more of a shrug, and said "Anna. It was sometime before she fell. I haven't…Uriel had offered but I couldn't accept. It was too soon."

Despite their closeness, Balthazar had never seen Castiel's wings, and visa-versa. Showing your wings was a personal thing, private. To a human, it would be similar to standing naked in front of your partner for the first time, blushing and nervous and wondering if you were good enough, praying they wouldn't find any blemishes or linger too long on the scars. It was a sign of trust, of intimacy.

Balthazar nodded, shuffling from one foot to the other, looking off to one side. "I could-well," he stuttered, "If you want me to, that is."

Castiel took a moment to really look at his friend, the way he stood-slouched slightly, hands clasped, now, behind his back-a submissive gesture. And it was then that he remembered Uriel when he'd offered, tall and brash and proud and dominating even though Castiel had been his superior. He was nothing like Balthazar.

Balthazar was nothing like him.

"We are equals in this war, Balthazar. You know this."

"Oh, yes, of course," Balthazar shrugged, "But you're the boss. Boss."

Castiel was silent, contemplative, rolling his shoulders again and again. The crickets kept on chirping and the frogs kept on croaking. Off in the distance, the same dog (or perhaps it was a different one) howled pitifully.

Then Castiel turned his back towards the other angel and rolled his shoulders once more.

There was a rush of wind and a quiet sound, like ripping paper-towels, as Castiel's wings tore through the pocket dimension they usually resided in and unfolded themselves in a bright flash of light. The crickets and frogs silenced immediately, most fleeing to their dens or further into the safety of the darkness. Nearby raccoons scrabbled away noisily, owls and sleeping birds hooted and shrieked at the disturbance before also removing themselves. The dog in the distance started yelping and barking. A man who had been walking nearby caught the end of the flash in the corner of his left eye. He'd thought nothing of it and kept walking. Four blocks over he frantically called 9-1-1 from his cell-phone, telling the operator he'd suddenly gone blind.

With all the chaos going on around him, Balthazar only had eyes for the sleek black appendages that were Castiel's wings.

There were only two wings, not unusual for soldier angels such as themselves, that were large, three feet at it's widest point, and long, arching behind Castiel's head and almost brushing against the ground. Fully expanded, Balthazar estimated they were at least 10 to 11 feet tip-to-tip. They were offensive wings, meant for breaking bones and knocking enemies out of the sky mid-flight. The feathers themselves were a deep dark blue-almost black-color, reminding Balthazar of the night sky. The moon light reflected dully off the ruffled feathers, and even though Castiel himself looked like he'd just flown through a tornado, he was the most magnificent creature Balthazar had ever seen.

Castiel hesitantly turned around, facing the other angel. This was a dance he was familiar with, and he'd done his part. Now it was Balthazar's turn.

Balthazar looked almost as nervous as he felt, but he didn't shy away. The taller angel took a few steps forward until he was within reaching distance of Castiel and turned so his back was facing him.

The ripping paper-towel sound happened again, the bright flash of light that, thankfully, no-one was around to witness, and then Balthazar's wings were exposed to Castiel's scrutiny. The black-haired angel let out a breath (Balthazar would later say it was a sigh) at the sight of his companion's wings. They were a light caramel color at the "wrist" and the "elbow" joints of the wings, then quickly faded to white with light brown freckles. They were as long as Castiel's wings, though not as wide. His wings were meant for quick flight, to loose opponents and then quickly swoop in to deliver the final blow. The wings were smooth-Balthazar most likely regularly groomed them himself, and the moonlight made the white of the feathers practically glow.

Balthazar's presentation was done for now. Castiel's move was next.

Hesitantly, Castiel reached out his hand, combing his fingers through the feathers that felt like liquid steel and crackling energy, then reached out with his grace, smoothing it first over Balthazar's wings, then pushed gently against his grace. Not probing-no, that would happen at a later date-just gentle nudges of affection, like a cat butting it's head against one's ankle, a silent claim of _I like you_. Balthazar softly nudged back, _I like you, too_.

Slowly, Castiel removed his hand, but continued to brush his grace against the other angel's. Balthazar turned to face the short angel, a small smile on his flushed face. Castiel felt it was safe to assume he looked similar. He turned so his wings were once again exposed to Balthazar, but he felt more comfortable now.

The dance was complete. Now it was time for the fun part.

Wing grooming was an intimate, as well as vulnerable, process. One was _literally _putting their hands on another angel's grace, one wrong tug and that angel could turn around and rip out a handful of feathers before the other even had enough time to realize that, yeah, that _kinda _hurt.

Balthazar started near the bottom of the right wing, having to lower himself to his knees, and carefully rearranged feathers so that they fell flat naturally, combing his fingers through the inky-blue feathers when he was done with that particular spot. Castiel couldn't feel much of a difference at first until Balthazar had to stand to reach the next bundle of ruffled feathers.

Castiel sighed. Balthazar hummed. "Feeling better, Cas?" He asked.

Castiel nodded, head falling forward. "Yes, very much." He sighed again as Balthazar untangled a particularly messy clump of feathers. "I was unaware of how much this was affecting me."

Balthazar chuckled. "Well, it happens to all of us sometime or another."

"You?" Castiel asked disbelievingly, looking over his shoulder to meet twinkling blue eyes.

"Before I finally said "To hell with the dance of approval" and started grooming them myself, yes, actually. For a long time."

Castiel hummed, brow furrowing. "Who-well, if I may ask, of course."

Balthazar's fingers fiddled aimlessly with a feather before softly replying "…Gabriel. When he-well, after he _left_," the bitter tone he used was not lost on Castiel, "everyone was so busy fighting one another-and you were so busy with the Winchesters-I just decided I'd do it myself. Humans aren't the only ones with abandonment issues, now, are they?" he chuckled dryly. Castiel pressed his wings into Balthazar's hands, nudging him with his wings and his grace. _I'm here_, he tries to say. _I'm here and I'm not leaving._

Balthazar presses back. _I know._

The rest of the grooming passed by in warm, comfortable silence, with Castiel and Balthazar's grace flowing against each other like water. When Balthazar was finished, he combed his fingers through the wings one last time before stepping away. Castiel rolled his shoulders, dark wings stretching out as far as they could go, and flapped twice quickly. Balthazar sighed as the wind whipped around them, ruffling his feathers in the best of ways. He couldn't help but stretch his own wings a little, relishing in the feeling.

When the wind calmed, Castiel turned, facing Balthazar, looking bright and refreshed. The taller angel smiled. "You look better."

"I feel better. Thank you."

"Anytime, Cas. I mean that, too."

Castiel smiled softly, stepping closer. "I know." Slowly, Castiel's dark wings circled the two angles, wings brushing the back of Balthazar's own wings until they, too, folded around them, until there was only a breath of space between the angels. Castiel's grace glowed brightly with the warmth of a dry summer day as it surrounded them and intermingled with Balthazar's in the most intimate of ways. _I love you, _it said.

Balthazar's grace glowed just as bright. _I know._


End file.
